


She-Ra: Aftermath

by sackofmud



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:34:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24978514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sackofmud/pseuds/sackofmud
Summary: It's been 21 years since the events of She-Ra: Princesses of Power; but not everything happened as we remember. She-Ra vanished on the day Horde Prime infected Etheria, and those left behind have faced a constant battle for survival since. Can the next generation of heroes save their home, or is it too late?
Kudos: 2





	She-Ra: Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> A reading of this work can be found at: https://youtu.be/hNpwkQf45ak

A small ship struggles against a roiling sea; the two pilots, teenagers both, clamber about the deck trying to keep it, and themselves, afloat. Wave after wave crashes upon them. Among the turmoil, the elder of the pair, Syren, tries to look through the squall. His eyes widen, and he cries out to Ella, his companion. Ella barely keeps herself on the ship as they’re drenched again, but she catches his words above the roar and follows his gaze. He’s right. A little ways out a small island rises and falls with the violent tide. Ella allows herself to smile before being pummelled by yet another wave. The forestay rope near Syren finally snaps causing the ship to list, the bow shifting violently. Syren cries out as he’s cast into the water; for a moment, the thunderous cacophony of the storm is dulled to a muffled whisper as he sinks beneath the waves. When he breaches again, the ship has vanished, with either he, it, or both, being carried away by the twisting currents. He cries out for Ella but he can’t even hear himself over the noise of the storm. He’s pushed under the water again and for the millionth time wishes he inherited his mother’s gifts with water. The world around him grows darker as the surface, lit only by the flashes of lightning, is pulled away from him; he reaches toward it in vain as if he could grasp it. There’s another flash, this time not of lightning but of Ella; she blinks above him, displacing the water around her, and grabs his outstretched hand. Ella blinks again, this time taking Syren with her. When they appear they’re still in the water, but Syren can feel something beneath his feet; it’s unstable and gives way beneath his steps, but it’s earth. It’s land. Looking up he can see the island before him, the waves that threatened him crash in vain against its shore. Ella holds him up as he coughs up the last of the sea water he swallowed, and together they make their way onto the beach.

\---

Bow stands at the mouth of the cave he and Seahawk have been sharing the past few days. The sky outside is dark, and in the far distance over the sea he can see the edge of the storm he fears enveloped their children. He wonders out loud if they're alright. Seahawk doesn’t answer; he hasn’t been able to for some time, not since the sickness took his voice and vitality. Instead he groans, the fluid on his lungs turning it into a long, low rasp. Bow moves to his side and replaces the compress on his forehead, cradling his sleeping face to both check Seahawk’s temperature and give him comfort. To give them both comfort. Despite, or because of, everything that’s happened, Bow has to believe that Seahawk still knows he’s there, still feels his touch. He sits, still holding Seahawk, and looks out of the cave toward the broad, deep water.

\---

Ella absent-mindedly plays with her moonstone shard necklace - it sends calming vibrations through her hands; they remind her of her mother. She and Syren are catching their breath on the beach, and looking out on the sea Ella wonders where her mother is. What new war-front she was engaging. Syren, now on his feet, puts his hand on Ella’s shoulder. She takes her eyes from the thrashing waves to look up at him; he gives a reassuring smile. Ella takes a deep breath and then, body aching, rises to her feet. She looks up at the crumbling tower that looms over them; it dominates the island, leaving little room for anything else. She asks, perhaps to Syren and perhaps to herself, whether she could still live here.  
Syren doesn’t respond and instead begins searching for a way to get through the debris surrounding the tower; if she is here they’ll need to find a way in. The pair of them work in silence, climbing up the rubble while the storm rages, impotently, nearby. Ella casts a momentary glance over the raging sea, wondering if she might spot their ship. She does not.

Syren’s voice rises above the din. He’s disappeared behind some debris so Ella follows his calls. When she finds him he’s clearing a few small boulders from the front of some kind of shattered archway. She helps, and soon the pair stand in front of a passageway into the tower. They pause. In the back of her mind Ella considers that the entrance looks unused; forgotten. If the witch was here, she certainly wasn’t using it. Syren pulls a glowstone from his belt and shakes it, releasing the light within. Holding it above his head he leads the way; as the pair move further into the depths of the tower the sound of the storm fades.

Syren tries to focus on the walls through the light of the glowstone; they’re decorated in intricate patterns, which have been carved into the stone. They seemed like words, like they should mean something, but Syren can’t make anything out of them.  
Ella is similarly intrigued; she runs her hand along the carvings and, as if reading Syren’s mind, she relates what she knows about them. She explains that, according to her mother, the tower was an outpost - a place to keep check on the Prime infection. In fact, her mother said that they had stayed here once, before it had been overrun. Syren asks about the witch but Ella shrugs, adding that she must have come later. She certainly didn’t remember meeting any witches as a child. Ella was keen to change the subject; not because she didn’t like talking about the witch - it was all that she’d been thinking about since they left their fathers - but because she didn’t like talking about her mother with Syren - not after what happened to his.

The pair come to a large, open room; the light from the glowstone doesn’t reach the walls here. The air is cool and wet, and all that can be heard is the soft trickle of some unseen stream and their own breathing; if there was a storm outside, you wouldn’t know it. Ella takes Syren’s hand in her own; something is happening, she could sense it. As if in response the room begins to brighten; the carvings on the walls illuminate by way of some unseen means and the great, domed room comes to resemble the night sky, littered with constellations. Syren and Ella stand beneath it, awed. They don’t see the dark shape moving across the make-shift stars until its eye erupts in a blaze of red and its roar crashes through the chamber. The creature’s own body now pulses with light; it's some kind of monstrous worm, easily 30 feet long, its cyclopean eye and toothed maw equally hungry. It dives toward Syren and Ella, but before it can consume them Ella teleports them both away. The worm crashes into the ground, shaking the foundations of the tower.

Ella gets her first look at the thing; it’s not a Prime - it doesn’t have the signs of corruption they carry. No, this must be one of the tower’s defences, and if Ella had been here before, if her royal heritage granted her any protection, the creature certainly didn't acknowledge the fact. The worm recovers and turns to the pair who immediately dash away in different directions. The colossal creature initially turns to follow Syren, but a glittering blast of energy draws its attention to Ella instead. It snakes toward her. Syren, meanwhile, races along the edge of the chamber. Ahead he sees an imperfection in the wall; the faint outline of a door that once existed there. Next to it, a control panel sits unlit and unresponsive. Nevertheless, Syren pounds on it, hoping to bring it to life. No such luck. He calls to Ella who is doing her best to stay clear of the worm’s ravenous maw. The moonstone shard on her necklace glows with each blink and burst of dazzling energy. She buys herself a moment’s respite when the worm careens into a wall, momentarily dazing it, and she teleports to Syren. The look in her eyes tells him her energy is falling, but she sees the control panel, recognises the door and grips onto Syren’s hand.

The worm rights itself and once again finds its targets, diving toward them. Ella stands her ground defiantly as it approaches; the creature is mad with rage, frustrated at its inability to devour the intruders. It doesn’t slow as it approaches, its mouth wide. Ella grips Syren tighter. Tighter still. When the breath from the worm’s maw washes over them, Ella blinks. The creature cannot stop and collapses into the door, cracking part of it along the central seal. The corridor beyond now visible to Ella, she blinks again, appearing down that same hall. Ella and Syren remain still a few moments while the worm thrashes and rages, desperate to break the rest of the door down and pursue them. When it seems as if it won’t be able to, the pair carefully walk on, listening intently as the roars of the guardian are slowly lost to the labyrinth of corridors and stairs they wander. 

Ella and Syren don’t have a plan, or a map. They follow the path of least resistance, which soon takes them up. Stair after stair as they ascend the tower. Every few flights they pass a window or crumbled wall, and the chill of the wind outside whips through them. The light of the last glowstone fades out as they come to a dead end; another door. They examine the frame and, as Ella runs her hand along the wall, her moonstone pendant begins to glow, as does the panel which controls the door. She glances at Syren who gives her an assenting nod, and she presses her hand to the panel; it glows momentarily brighter before the door rumbles to life, lurching and then shuddering open. The pair make no movement, waiting to see what is on the other side. The revealed room is wide and low. The far wall has collapsed, revealing the dark sky and Ella is surprised to see that they’ve climbed high enough that they’re almost level with the thick clouds, which have since ceased their storming. Beyond that it’s difficult to see what else is in the room, composed as it is of shadows. Ella’s eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and the vaguest shapes begin to materialise. She takes a step into the room, one hand on her necklace, the other held in front of her. A glittering blue energy flickers in her palm - it’s faint, and Ella can feel the weak flow of energy from the exhausted moonstone shard. Even so, the faint light is enough to force the clutter to make itself known – a bed, a table. Had this been a bedroom? The energy flickers away momentarily before burning anew - she makes out toppled chairs, chests. Sudden movement. A shape darker than the shadows lurches toward her, and she screams at the sensation of someone grabbing her wrist, the grip tight and unrelenting. Syren barrels into the room, his father’s energy sword flashing in his hand. 

Ella tries to blink away, but there’s just not enough energy left in the shard. The light from Seahawk’s sword reveals Ella’s assailant: a tall, red-masked woman with flowing dark hair. In one hand, she holds Ella’s wrist, in the other Syren’s sword arm. She tilts her head toward Ella, and in a voice resonant and knowing, welcomes the princess to the tower.


End file.
